Sleeve felt guilty for being alive. The news hit him like a truck carrying a bunch of orangefruits. Everybody he knew and loved; gone.
Deep down, he knew there wasn't anything he could have, or even would have done had he been there; but that didn't stop him from thinking "what if".
Azura squeezed his hand. "You couldn't have known," she said, stroking the back of his palm. "It wasn't your fault."
"But I was always up on the buttcrack when I was back home." He fought back tears as he squeezed her hand, or at least tried to.
"If only I'd been there; if only I hadn't been so greedy and I'd stayed home, I could have seen it. I could have saved them."
"Or you could have died." Azura let go of his hand and sat up straight.
In the three weeks they'd known each other, this was the first time he saw anything other than mischief or warmth in her eyes. Unbelievable as it seemed to him, she was worried—scared she would lose him.
Obviously, he cared about her as well. It hadn't occurred to him until now—he cared about her. He'd found a friend on this fucked up mountain, and he enjoyed her company so much that he'd all but forgotten about his mission.
"I want to go home. To pay my respects."
"I'll go with you."
"But—" he started to object, and she took his hand again.
"You need a friend right now."
He knew nothing he could say would change her mind; and he knew she was right, so he nodded.
"If I hadn't left home, I wouldn't have met you either." he said, and wide smiles were conjured onto both their faces.
"And we both know how much more your life would suck if you hadn't." she added.
They decided they would leave the next day, and so they spent the rest of that morning, and most of the afternoon, getting their things ready. That evening, they went over to Ms Martha's cave (yes, she had a whole fucking cave to herself. LUCKY!) to let her know they were leaving and might not be back for a while, if ever.
She had a thing about privacy, and never demanded to know people's reasons for anything. She asked why, they said they'd prefer not to answer, and she respected their decision. Maybe he couldn't learn any sins from her. But he thought he might as well try.
"Hey, Ms. Martha. One last thing before I go."
She turned her head up from the Dog Food Channel and gave him her full attention.
"I was just wondering… how are you always so calm and peaceful and happy? How do you stay positive and supportive? There must be some kind of secret."
Her smile widened and for a second, Sleeve could have sworn he saw a hint of an evil gleam in her eyes.
"Oh, Mr. Sleeve. I don't usually share this, but I feel like you'd understand. Come closer and I'll tell you."
And so he did. He went in close to her desk and she put her lips to his ear.
"I surround myself with people I'm better than." she whispered, and his ears and tail shot right up. "That's why I run this stupid place. All these sad, messed up people looking for hope just remind me how amazing I am."
She leaned back in her chair. "Find what you were looking for, Mr. Sleeve?"
She went back to watching her show without waiting for an answer.
The sly fox, Sleeve knew she was cool somewhere under all that positivity.
Later that night, Azura asked Sleeve what she'd said to him. "So? What's her secret?" was how she phrased it.
"Whose?"
"Ms. Martha's. Who else would I be talking about?"
"Oh! She masturbates a lot." he answered, and without waiting for her to process it, he walked to her door.
"Good night, Azura."
"Good night, Sleeve."
They both did finger guns at each other. It was pretty awful, but in a beautiful kind of way.
He went to his bed, lay there alone, hoping he would be able to get at least a little sleep ahead of his journey tomorrow.